Tom winked. “Did I mention I can best most sommeliers at wine trivia?”
Jill shook her head. “What are you doing with me? I had Captain Crunch for breakfast. Out of the box. Later I found a piece between my boobs where it had fallen into my bra.”
He hooked a finger into her shirt and pretended to take a look. “Still there?”
She batted his hand away. “My point is, you’re so far out of my league.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m crazy about you,” he said, ushering her aside. “Now step aside, drink your wine, and let me make you something fabulous.”
Jill did as she was told, hoisting herself onto her kitchen counter as she watched Tom chop the onion into more manageable pieces.
This was her life. This, right here, was going to be the rest of her life. Sipping wine with Tom at the end of the day while he cooked for her.
The thought was… nice.
And if somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if it shouldn’t be nicer, she ignored it.
“So how’s the case coming along?” he asked as he made easy work of the onion and moved on to the garlic.
“Ugh. Stagnant,” she said.
There was a vibrating news alert sounding from her purse, and she leaned across the counter, fishing her phone out as she took another sip of wine.
She bit her lip when she saw that the text was from Vin.
Ordered Chinese. You want?
For one horrible, terrible moment, Jill wanted nothing more than to respond and say yes.
What was with that?
She was sitting here in her cozy kitchen with delicious wine, as a gorgeous man cooked for her.
And she wanted to leave all that to go have mediocre takeout with a man who’d probably either want to review crime scene photos or watch a game while they ate?
No. No, she didn’t want that.
This was where she belonged. With a man who was good at conversation, and good at kissing, and good at being nice…
Still, she regretted not telling Vin that Tom was coming into town for the weekend. She’d meant to. It was just… she didn’t like talking to Vincent about Tom, any more than she liked talking to Tom about Vin.
It was like they were two parts of her life that she wanted to keep as separate as possible, and had no idea why.
Or maybe she had every idea why, which is why she couldn’t let herself think about it.
“So, my sister’s cousin is a real estate broker in Chicago,” Tom said, oblivious to Jill’s turmoil. “She said we’re looking at the perfect time to move. There are a bunch of brand-new buildings going up near the lake. Which will be brutal in winter, of course, but that’s why we’ll have a place in Florida as a getaway.”
“I’ll still have to work in winter,” she said with a bit more bite than she intended.
He looked up. “Yeah. I know.”
Did he?
“The option to get away to a nicer climate sounds nice,” she said, softening her tone. “Maybe I can save up vacation time.”
“And if not, we’ll hunker down in Chicago and drink red wine in front of the fire,” he said. “Maybe binge on whatever show’s the next Netflix rage.”
Jill’s mind happily entered the cozy picture he described. It was everything she’d ever wanted. Someone to cuddle with on the couch, watching crappy TV with excellent wine… maybe even a foot rub. Maybe Vin would suggest ordering extra cheese on the pizza, and she’d pretend to protest because it was too fattening, and—
Jill sat up a little straighter. Wait. Whoa.
Vin?
How had her partner entered that picture?
He’d be back here in New York when she and Tom were in Chicago. Not like he’d be stopping by any longer, and there certainly wouldn’t be any cuddling since she’d be married.
Jill glanced down at her phone, where Vincent’s text sat unresponded to.
That sad text combined with her strange, out-of-place vision made her chest ache.
She took a deep breath and forced herself to reply to his message. If they had any chance of preserving their friendship after her marriage, she had to keep being open with him the way she had before Tom.
Can’t. She wrote back. Tom’s in town. Have an extra egg roll for me.
Jill set her phone aside and asked Tom about the most recent deal he was working on.
Her phone buzzed beside her as Tom talked, and Jill ordered herself not to look at it. Reminded herself that looking at your phone when anyone was talking was rude. And when it was your fiancé, it was downright unforgivable.
And yet, the second Tom stopped talking to peruse her spice rack, Jill tugged the phone closer to read Vin’s response.
Please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad…
K. Also, opened your fortune cookie. Says right here that you’ll die young unless you buy your partner Starbucks for the rest of the week.
She smiled as she wrote back. What does yours say?
That I’m brilliant. Also, well-endowed.
Jill nearly choked on her sip of of wine. Isn’t that what it said last time?
I know, weird, right. Think I should laminate this and hand it out in bars?
“Something funny?” Tom asked as he turned back with a polite smile.